Thankful Thursday

The sun is beautiful here today. We have had a crazy week of weather, mild 60s to snow to mild to rain. What a wild ride!

I have been working on my story, my testimony, what the Lord has done in my life. It has been hard and it has been healing. I will be sharing it at my meeting next week. Yikes!

Here is a paragraph I wrote this afternoon:

I am grateful for the Lord and for the people he has blessed my life with. I have made deep relationships with people over the last months that would not have come about had I never struggled with my drinking. And though I wish I was not an alcoholic, I do NOT wish I didn't have these friendships.

Today I am grateful for those friendships. AND I am grateful I am not drinking today.

What are YOU thankful for?

Happy Thursday~ 

Triggers

I started drinking in high school because it seemed like a pretty cool thing to do. I remember being at a party one of the first times I was out drinking. We were sitting around a table playing a drinking game. I got up to go to the bathroom and was instantly aware I was drunk. I liked that feeling. I liked feeling woozy, a little off balance. As I made my way back from the bathroom to the keg a guy named George kissed me. I didn't know Geroge, but I didn't care that he kissed me.

As I went through the rest of high school and college I drank often, just to have a good time. I don't really remember drinking to relieve stress or because I was in a bad mood. And I don't know when that switch happened. I am trying to think back to when that became more the norm.

At one point in 2007 I got into a disagreement with my father {a high functioning alcoholic} and it turned pretty ugly. My family was going with my inlaws to a local rodeo and while they waited in the car I came back in to the kitchen and drank vodka straight from the bottle. I remember I was SO MAD at my dad and my response was to drink. The very ironic part was that the fight with my dad was about his drinking.

I had two, then three young children and my daily frustration level was getting higher. Drinking in the afternoon seemed to calm my nerves. I sometimes got irritated when I felt someone was criticizing my parenting. Drinking made me care a little bit less.Once I was going to a social at a Bible study group where I knew very few people. I drank before I went and felt more comfortable mingling with the ladies.

Those instances are clear times I was drinking to cope with my feelings. I have had to learn to deal with my feelings without alcohol. I can't say it has been easy. I can't say I do it right. I can say I haven't had a drink, but I have yelled, cried, gone silent, left the room.

I have also had successful moments. I have gotten through the tough times and felt better afterwards. Those carry me through. I still have trigger moments. I am still learning.

This is a bit rambly....what triggers you?
Happy Wednesday~

Ten things I haven't done-

Ten things I haven't done since I quit drinking

*Lied at work
*Laid awake at night, hating myself
*Made a roadie in a sonic cup
*Taken alcohol from my inlaws
*Driven with my kids in the car, risking their lives and many others
*Had a conversation about a conversation I didn't remember
*Ingested hundreds of empty calories
*Passed out on the couch
*Drank enough before a social event that by the time I got there I was already quite toasted
*Thrown up

What haven't you done?
What will you do today?
Happy Tuesday!

Sobriety Sunday-

How I knew it was time-

Once, in 2002 I quit drinking. I felt very clearly that I was not being a good example and that I needed to quit for awhile and really get control of things. I stopped in February, got pregnant in August and didn't drink again until the following June.

In June of 2008 I was very drunk at a local street festival. The following week I was talking to a relatively new aquaintence and she brought up a mutual friend. I asked her how she knew I knew Roxanne. She looked at me, completely baffled. Apparently the three of us had a conversation that I recalled none of. I quit drinking at that point for two months.

My sister was getting married and there were showers and parties and I started drinking again. It was slow for a few weeks, but by November I was drinking daily. In December I woke up after passing out on the living room floor at a game night with some of my husband's work friends. Some of whom I didn't even know. As I laid awake in bed that night, totally hating myself, making deals with God and unable to sleep, I knew I needed help.

I had tried it on my own and failed. I come from a long line of alcoholics, so it wasn't a huge surprise. However, no one I had ever known had gotten sober.

This was a whole new ballgame. I finally realized that it didn't matter if I was embarrassed, I still needed help. And while I hyperventilated the first 3 or 4 times someone I knew walked into a meeting, crying and shaking, my sponsor literally held my hand and helped me through it, whispering, they are here too.......

It has gotten easier but I know, KNOW, K.N.O.W. I would be drinking again if I hadn't gotten help. Do you want help?

Happy Sunday~

Sobriety Sunday

I've been trying to post since last night about how I knew it was time to get help, but it seems I have three little beings near me at all times, ha!

I will keep trying to write.....

There IS hope!

Splash de limon`

I am sitting in my dining room listening to Julie Andrews sing "Just a Spoonful of Sugar" and drinking lemon water. And I am content.

A little frazzled, maybe.

But not agitated. Or goofy. Or slipping further and further into a buzz that would lead to sleep whether I wanted it to or not.

At the end of my drinking I was into sangria. My husband would buy big jugs from the grocery store and I poured it into mason jars to sip. Mmmmm.......still sounds good. But after two glasses, er, jars of my sauce I didn't much care about anything else.

My kids could eat whatever they wanted. The dishes could sit until tomorrow. Things I'd said I'd do could definitely wait til later. The stress of the week seemingly slid away as the cool juice slid down my throat.

I must remember how it used to be.

Because it must never happen again.

Happy Saturday!

Sober in the Capitol

I went to a state school for college, one of the largest in the nation. I partied like what I thought a 'normal' college girl did. There were serious incidents that happened purely because I made poor choices and put myself in dangerous situations, but I must say, for the most part, I made it through safely. By the grace of God.

And He continued to protect me, mainly from myself, for 10 years of drinking after college.

This past weekend I returned to the town of my college days to run in a half marathon. We stopped at the grocery store on the way to where we were spending the night so that my husband could buy a 6 pack of beer. {We have been adjusting and compromising and figuring out what works for us regarding his drinking.....} We walked into the beer and wine section of the store and my head started spinning.

I realized two things. One- I equate this town to margaritas and a good buzz. Two- Any type of mini get-away from my kids and my job meant I could buy and drink alcohol with freedom not usually enjoyed in my hometown.

That was true until 14 months ago when I quit drinking. When I sobered up. When I realized that indeed, I was an alcoholic.

I sent a text to my sponsor and to Em asking their opinion of nonalcoholic beer. Both said no. {Props to me- I had already decided it wasn't a good idea before they texted back}

I discovered that this town was going to have to come to mean something new to me. That mini vacations were going to have to trigger something else in me. That I had the opportunity to redefine who I was in that city. In any city.

After I ran the half marathon on Sunday, I said to my husband, "I now have a healthy connotation with this place. I have done something good for me here, instead of my usual self destructive behavior."

And for that I am so thankful. What are you thankful for?
Happy Thursday!

Ashes

I got drunk for the first time when I was 16. I got drunk for the last time when I was 31. For 15 years in between there I had more black outs than I can count, puked in more places than I remember and did things I am completely ashamed of.

There were two instances in particular that weighed heavy on my heart. Black scuff marks on my soul. Deep pits of ugliness that could consume me on any given day if I let my mind go there.

Long before I got sober I knew I would have to deal with those things at some point. I knew I'd have to eventually tell someone, or go crazy trying to hide it. When I asked BW to be my sponsor in June she said she'd only agree if I agreed to work the steps. I told her I was a scared scared chicken, but I would give it my very best shot.

7 months later I finally worked step 4 and 5. I wrote down in my own words the things I was hiding. I put onto paper the ugliest ugliest part of me. It was the absolute hardest thing I have ever done. Harder than not drinking at Thanksgiving. More difficult than going into my first meeting.

I wanted to quit. I cried. I texted a friend who asked if I really had to do this. But I knew I did. I trusted BW and I trusted the program.

So I wrote the words.

The next morning, early in the dark, I read the words out loud. I had to sit on the floor, my back to BW. I read quietly. I paused several times. I honestly thought about just giving her the paper to read. But I finished what I started.

I read the words.

And funny thing is, lightening didn't strike me. I was assured that I was not the only person to have done what I did and experience what I experienced. And I was also reminded that if I needed any more proof that indeed I had a problem with alcohol, those two incidents confirmed it.

BW found some matches, we moved over to the fireplace and she struck a match. I held the paper and it lit on fire. I silently watched the paper burn, tears streaming down my face.

I burned the words.

While I had given those things to the Lord time and time again in my head there was something so cathartic about actually writing, reading and burning the words. As my sponsor said, I acknowledged my past, owned it and moved on.

I am forgiven, washed white as snow. {Isaiah 1:18} And while there will always be earthly consequences for my sinful actions, my Jesus remembers none of it. I am a new creation to him {2 Cor 5:17}.

I am not that same person. I am sober. I am forgiven.

Are you?
Happy Thursday~

Spoons

Last night I went to a friend's house to play Spoons. There were about 12 of us and it was a hilarious time!

Earlier in the day I had confessed to this friend that it was often before such get togethers that I would drink. Just one or two, before I had to face a room full of people. I like to be the life of the party. I like to be funny. Entertaining. Well liked.

And in my head that was only possible if I had a buzz.

Over the past year I have learned that indeed, it IS possible to do while sober. And in fact, I am more in tune to the moment my funny self becomes my obnoxious self. I imagine I was quite immune to that internal control while drinking.

Before getting sober I had drank before staff socials.
Before dinner parties.
Before Bible study fellowship {of all things}
Before kid birthday parties.
Before work.
Before taking the kids to the dentist.
Before my sister's bridal shower.

Yep, I am an alcoholic.

And I'm staying sober today. You?
Happy Tuesday~